


Chus

by yeaka



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Alternate Universe, Animal Ears, Cat/Human Hybrids, Dog/Human Hybrids, Ficlet, Hybrids, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-08
Updated: 2018-05-08
Packaged: 2019-05-03 20:13:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,380
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14576754
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yeaka/pseuds/yeaka
Summary: Noctis and Prompto make trouble in the kitchen.





	Chus

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Noctis is Ignis’ cat(ears/tail/behaviour)/human(body/sentience) hybrid and Prom’s a recently adopted hybrid dog from a hybrid shelter, like in [Plus Fur](https://archiveofourown.org/works/14504685/chapters/33510057).
> 
> Disclaimer: I don’t own Final Fantasy XV or any of its contents, and I’m not making any money off this.

“Prompto.”

As soon as he hears his name, Prompto’s ears perk up. He drops the rubber ball in his mouth and scrambles after the sound without even bothering to get up to his feet—he moves on all fours like the way animal-dogs do. Ignis has had a hybrid since he was young, and it shows—his apartment is covered in a plush carpet, right up until the kitchen laminate. Prompto crawls across that too without any trouble. Ignis has bought him nice, comfortable clothes that keep his knees protected. Ignis is an amazing master. 

Prompto tries to be an amazing pet. He comes to sit at Ignis’ feet, looking up expectantly and happily. As usual, Ignis has spent a good chunk of his home time standing by the stove. He makes the most delicious meals. It still blows Prompto’s mind that Noctis often turns them down, complaining when Ignis adds in vegetables. Obviously, Noctis has never been fed from the can, like Prompto used to be. Ignis’ food is so much _better_.

Noctis sits on Ignis’ other side, dressed in crisp blacks, his long, sleek cat’s tail idly flicking here and there as he watches Ignis. His triangular ears are turned up, listening in. Ignis glances down at Prompto and offers a round berry in his slender fingers. He asks in his lilting, aristocratic voice, “Have you had these before?”

Prompto answers, “Nope.” Ignis gestures forward, clearly offering the sample, and Prompto opens up to eat it right out of Ignis’ hand. It’s sweet but a little tart and easily collapses when his teeth sink into it. He can’t help but lick Ignis’ fingers afterwards, even though he’s sure he hasn’t spilled any juice. It’s just a force of habit—a show of affection—a strange impulse than Ignis so kindly indulges. Ignis patiently waits for Prompto to finish, then lifts that hand to scratch behind Prompto’s ear, and Prompto’s so giddy that his tail starts to wag. Ignis is the _best_. 

Ignis pets him for a bit while he nuzzles into Ignis’ legs, and then Ignis drifts away towards the sink. Prompto begrudgingly stays where he is, because even though he wants to follow Ignis all over the house, he doesn’t want to prove too excitable and wind up back at the shelter. Even though Ignis told him that would never happen. And Noctis said so. Noctis said _he was keeping Prompto_ , like he’s the real master of the house, and that’s just fine with Prompto, so long as he can stay.

In Ignis’ absence, Noctis looks curiously up at the stove. It’s hard to see what’s going on up there, but Prompto probably wouldn’t understand it anyway—human food is so _complicated_. They could both just stand up and look, but instead, Noctis lazily bats at the handle of the pot sticking out above them. It must be lighter than he expects, because it skitters closer, and a thick, purple sauce goes flying out, raining down over them. Prompto yelps and shuffles out of the way, but Noctis isn’t quick enough—it splatters his face. 

Prompto instantly whimpers in sympathy. Noctis just looks shocked for a moment, then twitches his ears and whines, reaching a hand up to rub at the sticky juice all over him. He only succeeds in smearing it around more. Ignis scolds, “Noctis! How many times do I have to tell you not to touch things on the stove? That could’ve been hot!” Noctis glares up at his human while Ignis leaves the room, probably in search of a rag to wipe up their mess.

Even though the fights Ignis and Noctis have never seem serious, Prompto doesn’t like hearing them. He doesn’t like _any_ arguments. It’s uncomfortable, and he winds up just sitting there awkwardly, always half sure someone’s going to yell at him. He always wants to actually _do_ something to help, but he knows he’s the outsider and doesn’t know where to start. Or at least, usually doesn’t. When Noctis sticks out his tongue, trying to lick some of the juice away, it gives Prompto an idea as to what he _can_ do. 

Shuffling closer, Prompto ducks in to lick a wet line up Noctis’ cheek. The juice he gathers on his tongue is sweeter than the berry Ignis fed him, and there are more layers to the flavour—something tangy and lovely and just the sort of genius that Ignis always makes. Prompto eagerly chases the next patch, tilting up to suck at the bridge of Noctis’ nose. Noctis whines at him, leaning away, and Prompto whines back to express that he’s just trying to help, licking up Noctis’ jaw line on the way. It’s not like Prompto hasn’t licked Noctis’ face before—just usually not so much, so front-on, and not quite so wetly. He can’t help it; he needs to be wet to clean the mess up. Noctis darts in to nip Prompto’s chin like some sort of revenge, but that just makes Prompto feel more playful. He mouths at Noctis’ chin while Noctis twists to lick him back, until the juice is entirely forgotten. 

Noctis quickly gains the upper hand, of course. He always wins. He surges into Prompto enough that Prompto’s almost knocked back to the tile, except that Prompto comes back with as much gusto as Noctis has strength. When Noctis run his hot mouth down Prompto’s throat, Prompto squirms, pressing more into Noctis than trying to get away. Noctis smirks with his victory, turning the tide and licking away at Prompto’s freckles. Prompto can only moan and give Noctis the occasional lick in retaliation. At least Noctis is someone he doesn’t mind losing to. Noctis is as great a friend as Ignis is a master, and the longer the stay together, the longer Prompto’s sure they _are_ friends. Even if Noctis was here first. Noctis is so dearly loved by both his master and that master’s friends, and he’s treated like a prince, but they make Prompto feel loved too, in moments like this where he gets showered in brutal kisses while he whimpers his surrender.

Finally, Noctis seems to realize that. He pulls back, grinning broadly with his victory, but he doesn’t get far. He can’t even get away enough for their faces not to be touching. Prompto feels the tug at his throat and tries to move away too, but he finds himself tethered to Noctis. He can’t get a good look at it, but he can feel what’s happened—somehow, the hanging pendants off their collars must’ve gotten tangled up. Noctis tugs back again, but Prompto stays stock-still—Ignis bought him such a beautiful collar, worth more than Prompto is himself, and he doesn’t want to break it.

Noctis tries one more time, then gives a little shrug and comes back in again, this time placing a fleeting kiss across Prompto’s lips. Prompto smiles hopefully and presses back, and then they’re really _kissing_ , passing the time with far deeper touches than their usual licks and nuzzles. Even without being able to see it, they could probably detangle the collars if they really tried. But if it means keeping Noctis’ attention, Prompto would rather they stay chained together. 

He gets so quickly lost in that—the soft, warm press of Noctis’ silken lips and velvety tongue—that he forgets where their master went. When Noctis is sucking on Prompto’s bottom lip, Prompto hears a sigh somewhere above them.

Prompto lifts his heavy lashes to see Ignis kneeling down beside them. Reaching under their chins, Ignis fiddles with their collars. It doesn’t take him long to fix the issue, and then they’re able to pull apart, much to Prompto’s disappointment. He still opens his mouth to apologize to Ignis for playing in the kitchen, though Noctis gives Ignis a bored, haughty look like it was to be expected. 

But Prompto doesn’t get to say anything, because Ignis gives them a withered look and shoos them both out of the kitchen. When Noctis goes, stretching and flexing like he was just about to go for a stroll anyway, Prompto hurries to follow. 

They resume in the living room, where Prompto licks up every last remnant of the juice, looking quite forward to dinner.


End file.
